Sarah's Story: The Leggyboo chronicles
by Glorfindel2187
Summary: A story I wrote for my friend Sarah. A fourteenyearold girl is dropped smackdab in the center of Tolkien's famous tale of Hobbits and Elves...First real fanfic, so please be considerate.
1. Chapter 1

Sarah sighed as she walked into her room; it was a complete mess. Her bed was unmade, clothes on the floor, papers everywhere. Her desk was so cluttered she couldn't have found the keyboard of her computer without moving several tons of paper; her beside table appeared to have been hit by a small tornado, with three books, four pencils, five essays and several other trinkets adorning the near-invisible stained wood.

Sarah moved to open the drawer of said table, but decided against it; unwilling to face the torment inside. She sat down at her desk, pushing away old papers until she at last found her computer's keyboard, mouse and monitor. Reaching down to turn the computer on, she slipped off of her chair and landed sorely on the floor with a resounding thump.

"Everything okay up there?" Came a voice from downstairs.

"Yes, mom, I'm fine."

Sarah picked herself up and looked around her room again.

'It's not that bad', she thought to herself. She looked back to her computer as if to turn it on with her thoughts, but decided against it, settling down to the chaos that was her room.

Four hours, three recycling bins full of paper, and two lectures about being clean later, she stood up and looked around, stretching.

"God, that took a long time."

Sarah turned to her bed and, grabbing a book, flopped down onto it. Looking at the book she had picked up, she wrinkled her nose, "I hate long introductions." Thinking she'd finish it later, she aimed for a chair on the other side of the room, and threw the book.

With a flourish and a flop, the book landed on the floor five feet to the left of the nearby chair. She sighed, reminding herself once again why she didn't play baseball.

As she kneeled to pick up the book, she noticed something small moving on the carpet.

A spider.

Sarah shrieked and jumped away, nearly tripping over herself in the process of getting away from that which terrified her most. Although she could barely see the spider from her position on her bed, she could see it perfectly in her mind's eye. An alien shape, ugly in design and nature. Furry when it should be smooth and hairless like other insects; eight-legged when it should possess the more common six legs. The mere design of the spider bothered her, an unnatural abomination of all that was right about insects like the butterfly or beetle.

After calming herself down to a level of mere shakes and cringes, Sarah eased herself off the bed and reached for a tissue, eyeing the tiny monstrosity on her carpet the whole while. Tissue and a pair of unsharpened pencils in hand, she slowly inched towards the spider.

After summoning enough courage to throw the tissue over the spider and carry it to the toilet using the pencils as improvised tweezers, she calmly washed the sweat off her hands.

Deciding that a day out would definitely calm her nerves, Sarah went out with her parents to see the third and final Lord of the Rings movie for the fifth time.

Returning home at nine o'clock that night with a poster of her favorite blond-haired elf wood elf to hang in her room, she took a shower, paused to check for little insects, and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

A shriek was heard on the night air, chilling the small group to the bones. The one of the group with an air of authority about him turned to the other three, and yelled, obviously upset, "This way! We've got to get to the top!"

The four grabbed their crude weapons and ran to the top of the hill they camped on, surely hoping to find some measure of safety. They formed a circle, weapons held in front of them, searching for a shape in the darkness.

They were coming. The four felt it, and turned as one to see a darkly robed figure cresting the hill, revealing it's own weapon. So low was his hood that no face could be seen. Soon, four more like him followed, giving deference to their frightful leader.

"Back you devils!" screamed one of the four, gaining a sense of courage to trade blows with the dark king. He was thrown aside, as though nothing more than an inanimate obstacle. The two remaining grouped together in front of the nobleman, only to be grasped by the sneaking hands of two of the dark king's henchmen, thrown like pebbles to the side by unconcerned wraiths.

Frodo, seeing the power of the dark figures and feeling his strength drained, stumbled backwards, dropping his sword. He crawled backwards in a desperate attempt to gain some ground, but to no avail. The witch-king, advancing steadily, bore a wicked looking dagger in his armor-covered incorporeal hand.

Frodo, driven purely by fear, yanked his own doom from his breast pocket, and slipped it on, hoping against hope that it would bring an advantage.

If Frodo could have seen the king's face, he would have known otherwise, for as he put the Great Ring onto his finger, the Leader of the Nine allowed a wicked grin to replace his normally impassive features. Closing his eyes, he used only his sense of his Master's greatest creation to guide his dagger to the foolish halfling's heart.

Frodo screamed.

Sam cried out.

Merry and Pippin looked up.

One of the nine screeched in warning.

The Dark King screeched back, taking a slashing wound from an angry ranger.

Strider, sensing his advantage of surprise quickly fleeting, pressed his advantage. He parried the expert attacks of the four wraiths, setting each aflame with the torch he bore.

Watching the last of the beasts retreat in flames, Strider turned to Frodo. The one remaining wraith sensed the ranger's back was turned, and prepared to strike. It lunged forward, sword-tip leading.

Aragorn, feeling his hairs stand on end, ducked quickly, throwing his torch out behind him and letting it spin into the face of the Dark King, who promptly screamed and fell down the hill of Amon Sul.


	3. Chapter 3

Sarah awoke to a dazzling brightness. She sat up, blinking while her eyes adjusted.

The first thing she noticed was that she was not in her bed.

The second thing she noticed was that she was standing, fully dressed, in a white, open expanse. No floor, walls or ceiling were visible, nor was there any sign of the place having boundaries of any sort.

One feature stood out to her, though, right behind her was a grey panel, five feet by five feet wide, with a metal handle set into it.

"Where am I?" She asked, looking around.

Taking one last glance about the room, she bent down and pulled on the handle.

"You are in the house of Elrond. And it is ten o'clock in the morning, on October the twenty-fourth, if you want to know."

"Gandalf!" Frodo cried, sitting straight up in his bed.

"Yes, I'm here," the old wizard chuckled, "and you're lucky to be here, too. A few more hours and you would have been beyond our aid." Gandalf winked at Frodo, "But you have some strength in you, my dear hobbit!"

Frodo smiled, glad to be reunited with an old friend, but one thing stuck out in his mind.

"Gandalf, What happened?" Frodo furrowed his brow, "Why didn't you meet us?"

Frodo leaned forward as a shadow of a memory crossed Gandalf's face... Was it pain?

"I'm sorry, Frodo, I was... Delayed."

Frodo knew in his heart that his old friend was telling only a partial truth.

"Gandalf, what is it?" Frodo was genuinely concerned; Gandalf had ever told the full truth to the little hobbit, but now, something was amiss.

"It's nothing, Frodo."

Frodo began a protest, but at that moment his friend and best gardener rushed into the room, grabbing his hand.

"By the skills of Lord Elrond, you're beginning to mend." Gandalf smiled and leaned back, pleased with the hobbit's recovery.


	4. Chapter 4

"But me lord, ye canna' expect us ta stay with that Elves!"

"Ye'll have ta get used ta the idea, we're stayin' and ye canna' do anythin' aboot it," Gloin, Steward Under the Mountain commanded, "Our king needs that help o' the Elves, an' that's all we need. Donna get yer beard all in a twist, Nordit. We'll be leavin' 'afore two sunrises a'past."

The company of dwarves trudged onward. Gloin knew that the valley was nearby; he had seen it once, in his travels with his now-deceased best friend and King under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield.

Gloin sighed heavily, remembering wistfully the adventures they had gone on all those years before.

"Me lord?" Asked a surely dwarf.

"Yes, Bumpo?" The steward turned to regard the other dwarf, a stable fellow with an exceptionally well-trimmed beard tucked into his belt.

"Me lord, our scouts've reported seein' the Elven city. It be not three miles to tha' north," he finished in a thick dwarven accent.

"Thank ye, Bumpo. Ye've managed ta' keep them rangers in line, 'ave ye? Bunch o' strange folk, those, useful in a fight, though..."

The old steward rambled on, and poor Bumpo had no choice but to highlight the long monologue with "Yes, me steward," and deep bows.

Bumpo was relieved when steward Gloin's son, Gimli, came to take his place.

"That's kind of ya, Bumpo. I think tha' some o' the dwarves need some help with our supply cart." He sent a nod Bumpo's way, and the dwarf's expression showed his relief.

"Ye know, Da', this canno' be good fer our dwarves. We're takin' them deep into tha forest!"

Gloin shook his head. "No, me son, we're no' just taken' 'em into tha forest, we're takin' 'em ta elvish lands!" Gimli groaned, reminded once again of the elves and their cruelty to his father's friends in Mirkwood.

Sarah was falling. She had no reference point, as she was back in the white room, but she knew she was falling. She felt air whistle by her ears and a rush from adrenaline powering her now-useless muscles.

She blinked as her viewpoint changed. Now, she was falling towards earth, and fast. Below her she could see trees, a river, and in the distance a large snowy mountain range.

She began, to her surprise, to slow down to a comfortable speed, until she stopped falling and simply hung in midair, twenty feet from the ground.

Looking around for something to grab on to, she spotted a tree branch. She reached for it.

A mistake.

Sarah started falling again, and cried out as she hit the ground, hard. When she opened her eyes, she felt an acute pain on her palms and one ankle. She tried to stand, but with a sharp pain in that ankle, she decided to settle for sitting up instead.

She looked around, not surprised to find herself in a forest.

"Wow," she whispered; the trees were huge, and a full green color filled their branches. The grass she sat on was also extremely healthy-looking. She saw several butterflies.

"Anyone there?" called a voice from afar.

Surprised that another human would be here, Sarah hesitated, then yelled back, "Yes. Could you help me?"

"Of course," came from behind her. She started. "How did you get..." She trailed off, staring at the face she saw.

"No.." She whispered. It couldn't be.

Blue eyes blinked and regarded her curiously, "No what?"

"You're.. You're.." She couldn't find the words. How could she be talking to an elf?

"Shh..." He whispered, placing a hand on her forehead, "Rest. You're hurt. I will take you to Lord Elrond."

She looked up at him. "Wait a minute," she said, realizing who she was talking to.

"You're not Leggyboo."

The elf blinked again, "I'm not.. Leggyboo?" Who is this?"

Sarah grinned, "Legolas. You know him?"

The elf nodded, understanding, "I have met him."

"You're Glorfindel, aren't you?" Sarah raised an eyebrow.

Now it was the elf's turn to be puzzled, "Yes I am," he said after a long pause, "How do you know me?"

Sarah shook her head, laughing, "Silly elf, of course I know who you are!"

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at her, puzzled by her speech, "You are certainly a strange girl. Come. We must go to Lord Elrond," he said again.

Sarah looked pointedly at her foot. "I don't think I can walk. Can you help me?"

The elf smiled. "Of course." He held out a hand to pull her up, which she took. He helped her to stand up and put an arm over his shoulders, but she had trouble reaching up.

"This isn't going to work," she mumbled under her breath, not expecting Glorfindel to hear her.

"Of course it will!" He grinned, "Ill carry you."

Sarah was pleasantly surprised to find that he was more comfortable to lean against than she had thought, and dozed off halfway to the Last Homely House of Elrond.


	5. Chapter 5

"There. You should be able to walk again, but be careful; you sprained your ankle and shouldn't stress it for three days at the least."

"Thank you." Sarah sat up, looking around the room, marveling for the hundredth time at how beautiful the architecture was.

"Am I really in middle earth?" She whispered to herself, staring out the windows.

"Are you awake, strange girl?" Glorfindel seemed to appear in the doorway.

At first she felt annoyance at being called strange, but found it hard to resist the twinkle in his eyes and smiled back at him, nodding. He smiled and sat down on a rocking chair.

"Are you feeling better?"

Sarah nodded, sitting up and leaning on a pillow. "Thank you for carrying me here. I'm sorry I fell asleep."

He chuckled and shook his head, smiling, "I did not mind. You are not so heavy. I'm afraid your bracelet fell from your wrist on your way here."

He stood, producing the watch she had put on the night before. As he leant down to hand it to her, the alarm went off; a high-pitched beeping noise. Glorfindel jumped, reflexively dropping the watch and barely managing to catch it as it fell. Sarah took it and dismissed the alarm.

Glorfindel looked at her questioningly.

"Uh.." Sarah stammered, not wanting to explain electricity and other technologies to the elf, "A magical toy, from Gandalf the Grey." She paused, "Mithrandir."

The elf looked confused, but nodded. "You carry it with you?"

Sarah nodded, quickly coming up with an explanation; "He said it would help to ward illness," she tried to speak as the elf did, assuming a slightly different speech pattern.

The elf blinked, "The sound this charm made, what does it mean?"

Sarah sighed, trying to stop the curious elf's line of questions, "It's not important," she finally said.

Glorfindel nodded, standing up and holding a hand out to her, "Very well. Would you like to join me for a walk about the valley's gardens?"

Sarah smiled warmly. "Of course."

They walked and talked for hours, discussing Middle Earth's history, specifically consisting of Glorfindel telling stories of his people's history. When he came to the fall of Gondolin, he fell silent.

Sarah looked up at Glorfindel, placing a hand on his arm, "What happened at that battle, Glorfindel? What happened to the elves defending the city?"

Glorfindel grimaced, subconsciously clenching his fists.

Sarah stepped back away from him, looking away, "I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about it."

Glorfindel shook his head, motioning toward a bench.

"When the city was surrounded, I took half the defending forces to flank Morgoth's soldiers; a desperate attempt to save the city."

Sarah leaned forward, "What happened?"

Glorfindel frowned, "The enemy regrouped, reinforcements came in, and my forces and I were, ourselves, flanked. We had no chance."

Glorfindel sighed.

"I ordered a full retreat; an attempt to buy the citizens some time. They fled, and I took command of what was left of the garrison. With the survivors having escaped, I ordered the warriors to fall back and protect them."

"And everyone got away alright?"

Glorfindel sighed and smiled, "No, not everyone."

At Sarah's questioning look, he elaborated.

"We were on a mountain pass, far from the orc armies. We were almost out of the area; a giant shape of shadow and flame suddenly alighted on the cliff face. While I stayed behind and did battle with it, the others managed to escape. We fought for a tenday and more."

"What happened?" She asked, knowing full well Gandalf's disastrous fight with one of these creatures.

"The balrog; a lord of his kind, made a crucial error, slipping off the side of the mountain. I leapt down after him, smiting him as I did  
so. We tumbled down the mountain, trading blows, until the demon was slain, falling freely down the mountainside."

"You fell?" She placed a hand on his arm, wearing a concerned expression.

Glorfindel nodded, "I fell. Two days later, the king of the eagles bore my body up to the peak of the mountain."

"You died?!" Sarah's eyes went wide, squeezing his arm.  
He smiled, looking down at her hand, "Yes, but I was sent back to aid in the effort against Morgoth's successor, Sauron."

Sarah nodded, her expression grave, but not so grave that she couldn't gulp self-consiously and remove her hand.  
"You'll have to go fight?"

Glorfindel nodded, eyes sad, "Yes, I must. It is my duty and purpose here. Come. I'm sure you're tired."

She nodded and accepted his hand to help her up.

He grinned, stepping back and bowing, "My lady, would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you back to your room?"  
He finished his question in a mocking, stuffy voice mocking those who concern themselves with such questions.

Sarah giggled, nodding, "Of course, my lord Glorfindel."

He offered her his arm, which she took, and they walked back to the room where she had been sleeping.

Glorfindel waited outside while she went in alone, "There are sleeping clothes on the bed," he called after her.

Inside, she called back her thanks, finding a white nightgown trimmed with blue and green flower patterns.

Slipping into it, she walked out to the hallway.

"Glorfindel? I just wanted to thank you for talking with me today. You have such an exciting history."

The tall elf smiled, saying only "It was an honor to find someone who would listen. I am afraid, however, that we shall not meet  
tomorrow; I must leave the city for a day or more, to bring news to the Grey Havens."

"Oh.." Sarah looked sad.

The elf smiled, "Do not despair; I shall be back soon. With that being said, I shall take my leave of you. Goodnight, my lady,"  
he finished, once again bowing and adopting a the voice of a stuffy noble. He took her hand in his, and-smiling the whole  
while-softly kissed her knuckles. "Sleep well."

With that, he swept off, his silver cloak billowing out behind him.

Sarah stood in her doorway, trying to sort out what had happened. Glorfindel had just kissed her hand. What did that mean?

Sarah sighed, shaking her head. She was tired.

As she lay in bed, she pondered her own feelings, along with her apparent relocation to Middle Earth. Perhaps it wouldn't be so  
bad here, with Glorfindel present...

With that thought, she fell asleep. 


End file.
